


Role Reversal

by occasional_boy_reporter



Series: Kinktober 2018 [16]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Role Reversal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 12:32:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16475642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/occasional_boy_reporter/pseuds/occasional_boy_reporter
Summary: This was less of a position/top or bottom reversal and more a switch on representation of horny, carefree Cayde and Ikora 'voice of logic and reason' Rey.Also, not really doing Kinktober in order anymore as I rapid fire these out according to order of muse. All prompts will be done and ordered by prompt date through the collection later.





	Role Reversal

**Author's Note:**

> This was less of a position/top or bottom reversal and more a switch on representation of horny, carefree Cayde and Ikora 'voice of logic and reason' Rey.  
> Also, not really doing Kinktober in order anymore as I rapid fire these out according to order of muse. All prompts will be done and ordered by prompt date through the collection later.

   “Uh, Ikora?”

   “Yes, Cayde?”

   “Do you know your hand is-”

   Ikora squeezes gently.

   “Oh! Ok. You do. Apparently know...exactly...” Cayde vents a hot puff of air as he relaxes against the crates at his back. “Is...is it my birthday?”

   Only Cayde can make such wild confusion charming.

   “No. No birthday,” Ikora clarifies as she drags Cayde's zipper down in one smooth, ear-poundingly loud move. “No special occasion. Just any other day.”

   “You sure?” Cayde squeaks and twists but it's less about the conversation now and more about distracting himself from coming the second Ikora pulls his cock out out of his pants.

   “Absolutely certain.”

   Metal shelving rattles when Cayde knocks a small crate off the pile at his back.

   “Sorry! Sorry,” his voice strains even though Ikora is the one with several inches of broad, sculpted silicone tickling the back of her throat. “You gotta...gotta warn a guy…”

   Ikora doesn't wait for Cayde to finish rambling before she pulls back with a hard suck that makes the Exo's hips twitch. Normally, fellatio is an art but, today, Ikora is too eager for delicate kisses and precision Light. She works slim fingers into the back of leather pants, grabs two handfuls of ass, and uses Cayde's body to fuck her own face.

   “Damn,” Cayde sighs, warm and awestruck, when he recovers enough of his wits. “What's got into you today?”

    Cayde’s hands are suddenly on her face, framing her cheeks and forcing her to slow down. She swallows around the length just barely resting in the back of her throat and takes a moment to savor the weight of it on her tongue, the stretch of her lips. She swallows again when the taste of Cayde makes her salivate.

   “Is this why you asked me to wear this?”

   Ikora presses her tongue to the head of his cock- the fat one, not the long one, as per her request- and she whimpers in confirmation.

   “Damm. Middle of the day blow job in a supply room? I like this Ikora.”

   She's the same Ikora. He lover seems to forget that sometimes even she succumbs to lust. Ikora pulls away, being sure to leave plenty of spit behind even though she knows she will not need it for what comes next.

   “Get down here.” If she weren't already soaking wet, her own hoarse order would have done the trick.

   Ikora kicks off her boots, wriggles out of her pants and the wet mess of her underwear. Cayde fixates on the black lace as it lands in a sticky heap.

   “That kind of day, huh?” He croons as he finally makes it to the floor and wrestles his pants down to his armored knees.

   “Yes, and I’ve been thinking about it since yesterday.”

   The 'so don't make me wait' is clearly implied.

   Ikoras flicks the tails of her robe back and seats herself in the Exo's lap without preamble.

   Cayde's hands are a bit too late when they try to wrap around her waist and prevent her from taking him in one go. They squeeze instead to keep her from moving until after his eyes have rebooted. Which is alright by Ikora because she knew it would feel good but not so good and she needs her own small moment to just feel the weight and the girth splitting her. Cayde tries to rub her neck, her back as if she needs soothing but what she needs is to feel that fat dick working its magic.

    “Hey, hey, hey! Take your time,” Cayde whispers.

   She accepts his kiss but not his caution and begins rocking, fucking herself on Cayde's cock and dragging her clit against the textured pad just above the base of his attachment while she grips his shoulders.

   “Or ya...ya know, don't.” He cups her ass gently and helps her fuck herself like a gentleman should.

   Cayde watches her breasts bounce beneath the full gear of her upper half and his hands twitch against her rear. Her breath is coming too short and quick but she gives him a nod.

   “Oh yeah, I like this Ikora a lot!"

   Semantics aren’t so important when she feels this good and she moans when Cayde fondles her breasts with both hands.

   “Shit this is hot, Ikora. Too hot. I'm gonna fry. This is how I die next, spontaneous combustion.”

   She fucks him through the motormouth, skin slick as she grinds her clit mercilessly. Cayde manages to find a nipple through all her layers and pinches. Ikora comes hard, pussy smashed against silicone, body arched with one of Cayde's hands on her back to steady her during her big finish.

   The Exo coaxes her back down to Earth and let's her sag against his chest while she milks a few more good rolls to enjoy the twitching aftermath of Cayde's own orgasm inside. His Hands are back to stroking her, calming her, checking on her like she would do for him any other day and she decides to turn that care to her full advantage.

   “You clean up.”

   Cayde surveys the slick on the floor, the wadded clothes, the toppled crates, the box of rags that apparently jumped from the shelves at some point, and the scattering of a can of bolts that he absolutely does not remember hearing.

   “Worth it.”

 


End file.
